Posts Tagged ‘Five Senses’

{*Fair warning: this post’s bigger than any before. Don’t be scared, it won’t take long. You can even tell me what you think at the end. But you’ll have to get to the end first. Enjoy!}

As a writer, I enjoy the word “revise” better than “edit”. This is amusing, considering I’m also actually an editor by trade. That aside, the definition of revise is more congruent with the process itself. Something you’ve created – whatever medium you use to do so – has stages of completion. You begin, you immerse, you complete. These are not isolated activities, nor are they the only steps. They circulate and metamorphose, much like the object of your creation itself. To edit often entails condensing, perhaps some cutting and expunging. I don’t know about you, but these are not attractive words, especially when my own work is involved. As a writer, (help me out fellow writers if you understand me) my projects are like my children. I am tender with them (even if they are not always tender with me!), nurture them, embolden them to be great. At least this is my initial desire. Now, to revise – that is more allowing, more supportive of an act. It’s examining, from every perceivable angle. Trying to see new facets of its possible beauty. It’s a process of expanding, of reshaping, often of growing. (more…)

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“All of us are watchers — of television, of time clocks, of traffic on the freeway — but few are observers. Everyone is looking, not many are seeing.”
(Peter M. Leschak)

You are lying, flat on your back, on new Spring grass. You are in a park, but you notice no one else around you. There are no streams of cars racing past, there are no phones, no conversations you overhear. You are alone, the air is light with the bliss of silence, and the flavor of simplicity. Your eyes survey the ever-changing sky, unveiling its dance above you. The hues are cobalt and cotton, each accenting the other, in a shared display. The stage is sharply focused, haze is banished from view. Then the ballet begins. (more…)

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Tell Me A Story

...How long has it been since you heard a good story? When was the last time you sat and truly listened? Life should never been too busy, that we stop hearing the world around us. I have a delight in the stories which exist everywhere. In a scavenging bird, in a windblown tree, in the stranger next to you on the bus or in the cafe. Let me introduce you to things you may have forgotten, or things you never knew.

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